Death
by Little Miss Jigsaw
Summary: There were times I hated you. Times I wished I didn't love you. I wished I could just forget that you ever existed. She regrets all those things now. Now that he's gone. Oneshot. WARNING! Character death. Please R&R!


There were times that I hated you.

Times I wished I didn't love you.

I wished I could just forget that you even existed...

But I did, no, I do, love you... And no matter how hard I try now, I can't forget that you existed... I feel guilty about it now, wishing that. Because now it's come true, and to be honest, I'm really not sure how I'm taking it yet... I'm still trying to convince myself that you're really gone. Yes, I was there when it happened, but it seems like a nightmare now. Nothing more than a bad dream. But as I look at your body, lying in the morgue, as Doc Robbins lists off various injuries, I know it's real. And that there is no way to escape it. Why did I accept your case? Maybe because no one else in the lab could do it... No one else loved you like I did. And everyone else is too busy being upset. Even Doc Robbins is having trouble. Sure, I'm upset. Probably a damn bit more than anyone else... But I'm not going to sit idly by while the one responsible gets away.

I'd like to kill thatbrat of a rookie cop who said that scene was clear. I'll certainly be having a talk with whoever's in charge, about making sure an experienced officer checks all crime scenes. We've had far too many accidents, because of a rookie... And this is the last one that I'm going to let slide... It's that rookie's fault that you're on this damned table now. His fault that I can't look anywhere, without seeing you, or hearing you. His fault that I'm constantly on the verge of tears. All it takes is one little mention of you, and my world comes crashing down again, because that one little mention reminds me that you're dead. Reminds me that I'll never touch you again, never speak to you, never hear your voice, and feel your arms around me, comforting me, after a bad case, or a nightmare... God, I miss you. I'd give anything to have you back... Anything.

We caught the guy, not to long after the incident. I couldn't interview him. I just couldn 't. It nearly made me sick just to listen. He seemed to know that I was there, behind the glass, for he spoke in great detail about how he had waited for you after he killed that girl, and her boyfriend. Seems like our good doctor wasn't as good as he claimed to be. Strange that he was so calm, the day you gave him that speech. Seems so long ago now. You didn't know I was listening, or maybe you did, and that's why you said it. Maybe it was more to me, than it was to that doctor. I guess I'll never know, now, but that was the day I realized that you did love me, you were just afraid. Afraid of the feelings you had for me, and afraid of the ones I had for you.

In a way, maybe I was afraid too, and that was why I stopped pestering you after that little speech... Because when I realized that you felt as I did, it frightened me. The past year with you has been one of the best in a long time for me... And now this doctor has ruined it. He took you from me, all because of what you said to him, about that woman he killed, in her own bathroom... The butterfly woman. You weren't able to get him on that one, but it still shook him up that you knew. So he was going to make sure that you couldn't prove it. But we got him anyway. He wasn't as careful this time.

I go into your office, and sit down, sometimes, just to be near all the things you touched, the things that are full of your personality, full of your scent. Catherine came in when I was in there, head on your desk, crying like a baby. It was the first time I had really let myself cry, since I had watched you die, that night. After Cath walked in on me, everyone looked at me different. Crying when you died had been undsterstood, but breaking down in your office made them sure of the suspicions they'd had.

Your funeral. The second worst day of my life. When they lowered the coffin into the ground,the full realization that you were gone hit me. I stayed while they buried you. I couldn't bring myself to move until they were done. It's all fucked up, now. You had such a large portion of my heart, now that you're gone, you've taken it with you, and left me feeling empty...

Damn you.

Damn me.

Damn you, for finally giving in.

Damn me, for never giving up.

And damn that doctor, for taking you from me.

With each shovel of dirt tossed on the coffin, I remembered more about the night you died.

Thud. The dirt hits the wood.

I remember laughing, as Greg told a joke. Then Brass rushing into the lab, saying something was wrong.

Thud.

There was blood everywhere. Some was yours. Some was the other two victims. You were on the floor, wounded, and dying.

Thud. Sounds like a chunk of rock was in there this time.

I basically said fuck the evidence, when I saw you. I could hear the ambulance, but I knew it wouldn't get there in time. You were already so pale... so cold, when I lifted you, as much as I could manage, already choked with tears.

Thud. Not so loud now. Must have been a good carpet of soil to cushion the blows.

You whispered my name, when I was holding on to you, and whispered yours. I couldn't say anything else. The panic wouldn't allow it.

Thud.

I don't you if it was you, or me that was trembling, but it was with enough force to shake us both. You actually had your eyes open. Those wonderful blue eyes of yours that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

There was no thud this time. The dirt was already too thick.

You tried to say something to me, but couldn't get it out. I told you I knew. And that I loved you too. Everyone else stayed back. Something told them to stay away. They went outside, to see if the ambulance had arrived yet.

I watch the grave diggers put more and more soil over you, and my heart aches with each shovel-full.

In the absence of the others, I kissed you. I tried to pour every ounce of love I had for you into that one kiss. I'll never know if it worked, for when I pulled my lips from yours, you were already gone... And that was when I let the sobs come out. That was how the paramedics found us.

No one wants to use your office. No one wants to change your office. We all want it left exactly as it is. I go in there sometimes, just as I did before your funeral, and just remember. Remember how you used to concentrate so hard on things, when you would be sitting at your desk. Sometimes, I can almost imagine that you're there, going through the shelves, looking for a specific specimen, while I'm at the desk, reciting something about whatever it is you're looking for.

If everyone thought I worked hard, and never slept before, they must think I'm insane now. I work even more, and sleep even less. I can't sleep, not when my dreams are filled with images of you. Memories of our times together. I work harder because it takes my mind off the fact that I'm tired, and it keeps me away from home. I can stand to be in your office, but not the house. The house was where we had spent the most time together, where all the really vivid memories were from, and where you lingered most. 

Sometimes, when I go home, I whisper to nothingness, and I swear I can hear you replyto me. I love you, Griss. I breathe into the darkness of our room. And maybe it's just a gust of wind from the window, or the voices of people outside, or maybe just my imagination... But I can swear that I hear you whisper back, I love you, Sara.

And real or not, that gives me all the comfort I need to sleep peacefully.


End file.
